


Munduphere

by m_diia



Series: Stories Of The Circumphere [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon Autistic Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, Multi, beautiful and powerful black lesbian who is a genuine literal queen of the country, idk im trying, lore like you couldnt Believe, lots of POC representation, two protagonists are lgbt poc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13380564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_diia/pseuds/m_diia
Summary: Dot is not exactly your average high schooler. Sure, she's obsessed with theatre, has a group of friends that she hangs out with, and procrastinates so frequently she's turned it into an art, but her mother is also one of the rulers of her country, and she has an identical twin sister who she shares thoughts with- not that that's a big deal. Alpha-Gemina Academy isn't exactly your average high school. Furthermore, Magi-America isn't your ordinary place.Even though her mother is a queen, it still sucks ass that she's a single parent. So Dot's pretty damn surprised when she accidentally finds the parent she always thought just walked out, and even more surprised when she accidentally triggers the apocalypse.





	1. Chapter One

" _Cut!_  Dot, come on." the drama teacher sighed.

His voice echoed throughout the theatre, and Dot winced a little. She'd forgotten her line again- it was that one line specifically. Every other single line in her part she could recite forwards and backwards and forwards again, but line 34... it always seemed to disappear. Mr. Wallers was sitting in one of the seats in the front row. The other seats were empty, except for Rosaline, who didn't come in until Act Two and was thus absently mouthing her lines.

"Sorry," Dot apologized. "I'm sorry- it's line 34. I'm tellin' ya, there's something about Line 34... it's just  _completely_  unmemorable. You should check- it could be hexed. This could be a sign.”

"C'mon, Dottie," Nereyda rolled her eyes. She was a beautiful girl with full lips and an inherently kind smile. She got all her clothes from thrift stores and reworked them so masterfully by the time she was finished with them, they were pretty much indistinguishable from your average Forever 21/Hollister fare. Nereyda was always talking about being from Houston- she had this snapback she'd wear all the time that said '100% organic made in Texas'. "The script ain't hexed.”

It was definitely an impressive feat- Dot bought most of her clothing online if she was able to. Shopping was overwhelming process for her. Walking around and putting clothes on and off and on again got her stressed out, fast. She'd ended up just taking her measurements so she didn't have to venture out- it could lead to embarrassing crying spells in the fitting rooms of department stores.

"You say the script's not hexed, I say it is, potato, potato, tomato, tomato," Dot did a little twirl. "Let's call the whole thing off.”

“Okay— let's start from line 28.”

"Yessir, Mr. Wallers, sir," Dot gave a weird little salute and threw herself enthusiastically back into her acting.

After rehearsal, Dot saddled up to Nereyda, clearing her throat. "Ahem- is this Texas? Have I made contact with Houston, Texas? Texas- the entire state of Texas, is that you?”

"Made  _in_ Texas," Nereyda pointed to her hat. "You're such a clown. Need somethin’?"

"Didn't think this through," Dot said. "Just wanted to make that joke.”

Nereyda rolled her eyes. "I'm givin' you five seconds. 5, 4-“

"You're counting  _way_  too fast," Dot complained.

“You shoulda thought about it before telling your joke, then.”

"Nereyda," Dot said. "My jokes are never that cerebral. I don't know why you expect so much of me.”

Nereyda tapped the side of her head. "Think big," she said. "Anyway, you're gonna make me late for the bus.”

"I would hate to do such a thing," Dot said. "Then I might have to do something  _awful_  like let you catch a ride home with me..”

"You flirting with me or something?" Nereyda arched a brow.

"Hey, that's just how I talk," Dot defended. "No flirting here.”

"She talks to  _me_  like that," came a disgruntled voice.

"Oh, hey Peri," waved Nereyda. "Collect your sister, please," she joked. "She's out of control.”

"If I could control Dot, I'd do it all the time," Peri said, dryly. "You can't tame her. Anyway, Mother texted," her gaze turned to her sister. "She says Charles is outside.”

"Fuck," sighed Dot. "I was hoping it would be James today.”

"You are so weird," breathed Nereyda. "Well, I'll see y'all tomorrow." she waved at the twins.

"Mhm, darlin'," Dot said, busting out a twangy southern accent. "Howdy an' yeehaw an' all that." 

Nereyda fixed her with a truly unimpressed look, picking up her backpack and walking away.

"Why are you like that? Do you even know?" Peri asked.

"One of the world's  _great_  mysteries..," Dot picked up her backpack. "Why is Dot like that? Was this a curse? Was she gifted the ability to be so  _genuinely_  horrible from the moment she started to develop in her mother's womb? And most importantly, can she be saved?”

"I think your fatal flaw is that you don't ever stop talking," Peri pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, before bending down to lift up her own backpack. "Come on," she said, grabbing Dot's hand and dragging her out to the parking lot.

Peri's hand was cold. Her hands were always cold- they were made out of metal (and so were the rest of her arms, for that matter). She was born without any, and had been in a wheelchair until she was about five. Then she'd been fitted for prosthetics, but she hadn't been satisfied with them. They irritated her skin and gave her shoulder pain bad enough to leave her bedridden.

She didn't take it quietly, though. A well known fact about Dot's sister was that she was absolutely brilliant, and it was this brilliance that led a six year old Peri to spend every minute of free time she had down in her science lab, experimenting with circuit boards and scrap metal, doing research on nerves and brain signals, and begging the scientists that worked for her mother for any pieces of technological equipment they didn't have any use for. For her seventh and eighth birthdays, she asked for synthetic metals. About a quarter into her existence as an eight year old, she perfected her own prosthetics.

Designwise, they were sleek and beautiful, but functionwise? Functionwise, they were unheard of. Peri had separated them into little bits and pieces. Every finger, and joint was separate. And with a gesture or a specific tap, Peri could get them to separate and assemble themselves into a claw, or a drill, or Dot's personal favourite, a blaster.

"You're like Iron Man!" an eight year old Dot had cried in awe, and Peri had grinned widely. Iron Man was her idol. He still was.

Peri was wearing an Iron Man shirt today. She squinted for a moment before walking some more. Their ride wasn't hard to spot- glossy black limousines are easily recognizable. "Ew," she said. "You're all nostalgic." 

"Ew, feelings," Dot mocked. They'd had the ability to sense the other's emotions for as long as they could remember, and if they really tried, they could share their thoughts with each other. It came in handy at their old school, where a less confident Dot had frequently needed saving from bullies. The Dot back then was a short, autistic, slightly knock-kneed girl with a weird fascination with fairies, which (or at least Dot imagined) made a very splendid target for teasing. 

The Dot  _now_  was still autistic and slightly knock-kneed, but she was less short and had a way better sense of humour. Plus she had friends, which always helps. 

"In," Peri pointed.

Dot rolled her eyes and got into the limo. “Well, Your Majesty, I’m in.”

"Hush, knave," Peri replied, taking a book out of her backpack and beginning to read it. Dot gazed out of the window as they drove- she liked seeing the familiar scenery go by. It was nice, and familiar, and steady. The car ride lulled her to sleep as it always did.

Dot awoke to Peri shaking her awake rather aggressively. She groggily wiped at her eyes. “Homeward-bound,” she said, saluting lazily.

“ _No_ , dummy. We’re already home.” Peri retorted.

“Nobody allows me to be clever,” complained Dot, grabbing her bag and getting out of the limo. “Constantly, my witty comments are shut down. I don’t get it. What is with the hate? As a society, we’ve lost all our tolerance for basic humour. People like me can’t make a living anymore. All this generation does is destroy industry after industry, and its latest target is the comedy and entertainment industry. All day long, on the cursed Internet, they stare at pictures of frogs and watch short videos that loop over and over and over and consider it the _peak_ of all humour. I don’t know when it’s going to stop.”

“If you were quiet, it’d really make my day,” was the hopeful reply.

“I hear if you click your heels three times and say ‘I wish Dot was silent, I wish Dot was silent, I wish Dot was silent’, it’ll happen,” Dot said.

“You have the power to make an active change in your life,” Peri said, without missing a beat. “I honestly think you can manage this one, dear sister.”

“Dear sister?” Dot repeated. “Suddenly it’s the 1800s and you’re off to be married.. you’re making fun of me for I have yet to find a suitor. None of the attractive young bachelors with a considerable fortune are interested in me, and you know I’ve taken a fancy to the farmhand…”

“Okay, I give up,” Peri relented. “You’re too much.”

“That is the _highest_ compliment you could have given me, really. Thank you so much,” Dot ruffled Peri’s curly hair relentlessly, leaving the ombre-dyed curls in complete disarray.

Peri gave Dot a light shove, groaning and trying to fix her hair. “I can’t present myself to Mother looking like— oh, and you’re opening the door. How delightful!”

“Mother!” Dot called. “We’re home!”

Coming home was always a mixed bag. Dot never knew if her mother was going to be home or not, if she was going to be working, or napping, or maxing out credit card after credit card on Amazon. She could be sitting in the bathroom and giggling, just watching the bathtub overflow, or she could be still lying in bed like she had been that morning. This was kind of problematic. since her mother was one of the three leaders of the country and all that.

It had always been like that, though, and her mom did her job well enough. She had been the one to breathe their floundering economy back to life. She managed public relations too, by giving speeches and showing up at interviews, and she was good at that. It helped that she was pretty, Dot supposed. Her mother was a bit of a beauty icon, with mesmerizing golden eyes, a full, bouncy afro, and a musical laugh that made people want to laugh with her. There was a always a story about her in the tabloids— people always wanted to know about Queen Jaune Giselle Hawthorne. She was just the kind of character that warranted adoration, discussion, and at least one scandalous rumour flying about.

“Hello, darlings!” she called, from in the study. At that, Dot could tell it was a good day. “Come here so I can hug you.”

“Oh, boy,” Peri said. “Physical contact, my favourite.”

“I can hear you!” 

Peri snorted. “You can come find me.” 

“Absolutely not. I am in the _zone_ ,” Jaune replied. “If I move from this spot I won’t be able to get this productive again.” 

“God forbid you leave the zone!” Dot cried, running into the study to hug her mother.

“Are you mocking me? I can never tell with you,” the queen hugged her back. “Mm.. you smell like warm vanilla. Is there any chance I’m smelling the perfume I bought you?”

“You are indeed smelling that,” Dot replied, matter of factly. 

“Wonderful,” Jaune said. “As I thought, the perfume compliments you quite nicely, though I must ask, were you wearing it just to wear it or were you trying to impress someone?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Dot looked around for an escape, not wanting to be subjected to another one of her mother’s misguided attempts to help her find romance. “It smelled nice, that’s all,” Dot said. “No impressing this and someone that, ‘kay? If I find someone I’ll like I’ll let you know-”

“Oh, I don’t trust that!” her mother ‘tsk’d. “That sounds like the kind of thing you’d hide from me,” she pouted her lip a bit. “Are you sure? There’s no boys you like?”

Dot relaxed— she didn’t have to lie about _that_. “No,” she said, sounding more relieved than she would’ve liked. “No boys.”

Jaune was silent for a moment before leaning forward. “Are you gay?” she whispered.

“No!” Dot exclaimed, reddening. Her mind was rapidly painting a picture of Nereyda, though. Dot knew she _was_ gay, and she was out of the closet at school. She didn’t think her mother was going to be _mad_ or anything— it just seemed like an awkward thing to bring up. 

“I’m just checking,” Jaune said. “You know that’s _okay_. I’ll support you and all the things parents are supposed to say about a thing like this. No matter what. Unconditionally.”

“I just want to focus more on school,” Dot explained. “Not romance. I’m not a lesbian, don’t worry.” 

“I’m not _worried_ , Jaune said. “I would just like to know. Your identity is a big part of you, honey! It would hurt me if you felt you had to hide part of who you are from me.” 

“I’m—” Dot paused before realizing this was her mother’s unique little way of saying she _knew_ already and just wanted Dot to come on and be honest about it. “Well, yeah. I’m a lesbian.”

Her mother practically beamed. “Thank you for telling me, darling. So is there a girl?”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Dot pointed out.

“Oh, no! I left the zone,” Jaune gasped. “We’ll talk later, alright? I really need to get this done tonight so I won’t have to worry about it later..”

“That’s totally okay,” Dot said. “I’ll be in my room doing homework. Okay?”

Jaune nodded. “If I got you a pride flag, for your room.. would that be tacky?” she turned to give Dot a questioning look. “Would you like that?”

“Uh…,” Dot trailed off. 

Oof. 

“I’ll think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up...
> 
> ↳ Will Dot get a pride flag for her room?  
> ↳ Will she ever get Nereyda to pay attention to her?  
> ↳ What on earth is compelling about this story?
> 
> Stay tuned to find out. Please comment and leave kudos, it really helps ♥︎


	2. Chapter Two

Dot walked the halls of the Alpha-Gemina Institution of Learning and Excellence with her hands in her pockets and a melancholy look on her face. AGILE and all the familiar faces in it were usually a comfort to her, but now even cheerful choruses of 'hey's and 'hi's seemed unable to get her out of her funk.

She wasn't quite sure what she was upset about. That could happen sometimes, that she'd just feel sort of agitated without a set reason as to why.

"Dot!"

Dot blinked, snapping out of her thoughts momentarily. She stared at Nereyda.

"Did you hear me? I've been callin' you for five minutes."

"Sorry," Dot apologized. "I've got a lot marinating in the old thinker."

"You're incapable of sayin' 'I've got a lot on my mind'?" Nereyda asked, giving a bit of an amused smile. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Dot just sighed. "Nothing of importance," she didn't want to mention it out loud to someone else, really. She felt as if there were a greater chance her bad mood with disappear if she didn't speak it aloud. Voicing emotions always made them feel so much more  _real_  and unchangeable. 

"If you're.. sure," Nereyda said, frowning a bit with concern, but making no further comment on the topic. "Well, I know you're real good at English."

"Eh, I'm passing," shrugged Dot. "Why?"

"I was wonderin' if you could proofread my essay," Nereyda said. "Not if you've got too much on your plate, of course—"

"Oh! No, no, I totally can help you out," Dot said, hurriedly. "No problem at all. That's doable."

"Awesome," Nereyda said, smiling gratefully. "Thanks, Dottie."

They found a spot in the library and sat. Nereyda hovered over Dot's shoulder as Dot read through her essay, occasionally adjusting punctuation or suggesting points in the essay that would be good for clarification. She smelled faintly of coconut, and Dot could feel the warmth of her breath a little on the back of her head.

"This should be a new paragraph," Dot suggested.

"Oh, alright." Nereyda said. Her voice was slightly deep— rich and almost musical in tone. Dot felt her face heat up, and the rush of the moment was tarnished with the little undercurrent of dread that filled her body. 

"Yeah. Other than that, it's all good," Dot laughed a bit. "Is it hot in here or is that just me?"

"Not just you," Nereyda said. "It is, a little bit."

Dot swallowed. "How's your little brother?"

"Jeremy? Oh, he's a'ight," Nereyda replied. "He likes the new school, he wants to be a businessman."

"Ew, a capitalist?" Dot joked.

"Dottie, your mother is the  _government_ ," Nereyda said. "Show some self awareness."

"Self awareness? No! No, I won't," cried Dot, dramatically. She put a hand to her forehead.

"The whole world's your stage, ain't it?" Nereyda said, rolling her eyes.

"It is, and you, Nereyda, my dear, have the pleasure of being my audience. Witness me— witness my glory. I am a  _performer_. I bow when I enter, I bow when I exit. In the middle is when I deliver my high note. I strut— my dressing room is forever stocked with  _all_  I desire _._  I am top notch."

"You talk  _so_  much," Nereyda laughed. "I'll see you." she patted Dot on the back.

The moment stuck with Dot until the end of the tiresome school day. This time, it was James who pulled up in the sleek black limousine to drive her and Peri home.

Aha. Now she'd figured out what was on her mind. She could get so confused when it came to her mother. She sometimes wondered if her the queen  _hated_  her. One day she loved her, the next day she wouldn't even look at her. It sometimes seemed as if at the very moment she was born, her mother started hating her. She named her identical twins the exact same thing, five middle names and all, differing only on the very last word, 'First' and 'Second'. You had to possess an awful lot of hatred for someone to do  _that_  to them.

Peridot Calenthé Esperanza Rohkea Esther Camilia Hawthorne the First. That was her name. She looked to her sister, who was deep in a book, glasses slipping down her nose a bit as her eyes moved across the pages.

"Do you ever wonder what mother was thinking when she named us?" Dot asked.

"Um, I try my very hardest not to," Peri replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just thinking about it."

"Hm," was Peri's response. "I could tell you were thinking about  _something_. Felt like it was deeper than that," she looked to Dot. "Is it mom stuff?"

Dot looked out the window. "Yeah."

Peri sighed, with a mild amount of tenderness. "She cares deep down, I think. You know that."

"I sometimes just— I just sometimes wonder if we're mother's children or if we're her PR stunts!"

Peri properly looked away from her book and at Dot. "If you're a queen, is there really a difference?" 

"Wh— I'd like to think so! She publicizes everything about us. Trying to garner sympathy or adoration or—"

"Dot, everything she says and does is going to be very analyzed. As her children, and you especially, as her immediate heir, this is extended to us. Sometimes she does use us as a social hand up, but most of the time, she doesn't have any direct control over it," Peri was focused on the window now, watching everything roll past. "Though it does suck, there's nothing we can do."

Dot pressed her lips together. "Yeah," she said. "I know."

"Well, I saw you in the library with Beiro earlier today, looking cosy," Peri teased. "What were you up to?"

"I was just proofreading her essay!" Dot said, defensively.

"Uh huh..," Peri nodded, grinning. "So when's the date?"

"There is no date," huffed Dot. 

"You know, I think she likes you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Dot said, right away. Her cheeks went rosy red. "There's a bajillion guys fighting for her hand in like, marriage or whatever, so she's got plenty of choices. I don't think she'll be interested in me, ever." 

"Give yourself some credit," Peri said. "I know Nereyda's  _pretty_ , but you're not  _ugly_. And you have money. Don't forget you have money."

"I definitely don't want her dating me because I have money, Peri," Dot said. 

"Eh," Peri shrugged. "Play to your strengths is all I'm saying. AKA, stop wearing sweatpants and dress up a little, for goodness' sake." 

"There's nothing wrong with wearing sweatpants anymore," Dot retorted. "It's messy-cute."

"Uh, yeah, if you're already in a relationship at least 6 months long," Peri said. "Not if you're trying to get someone to be interested in you."

"I don't wanna force it," Dot waved her hand around, dismissively. "If it's meant to happen, it'll happen."

"Oh, Dot, when will you muster up the courage to go out and get your Texan dream girl?"

" _Please_  don't call her my Texan dream girl," Dot said. 

Peri laughed.


End file.
